


How Many Does it Take to Raise Your Brother?

by katiemariie



Category: Community
Genre: Ableism, Angst, Autism, Canon Autistic Character, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-23
Updated: 2012-11-23
Packaged: 2017-11-19 08:06:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/571041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katiemariie/pseuds/katiemariie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a drabble meme, I was given Abed and the word, concilliabule - a secret meeting of people who are hatching a plot.</p><p>Abed and his mom talk about her new family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Many Does it Take to Raise Your Brother?

When she comes into the cafeteria, she leaves her oversized sunglasses on, pulling the collar of her trench coat up. Never let it be said that Abed's flair for the trope-tastic came out of nowhere.

“ _Matka_ ,” he calls softly, pulling out a chair.

She nods. “Abed.” She sits. “You look good.”

“You look like MacGruff the Crime Dog.”

An awkward silences envelops them, the pop culture reference tearing at old wounds. But he's too grown up now to feel guilty about it.

“Why did you want to meet me here?” he asks.

“I...” She switches to Polish. “I need your help.”

“With what?” he asks, also in Polish. He wonders briefly if those comically large sunglasses are hiding black eyes from her new husband.

“Your brother.”

Abed raises both his eyebrows. He's never even met his half-brother.

“He began pre-school last month. His teacher said there were signs of... She wasn't sure but she said there were _signs_. And he hasn't started talking yet.”

“It's probably nothing. I didn't start talking until I was three.”

She looks up at him over the rim of her sunglasses, tears filling her eyes. “I know.”

Oh. “You think he'll be like me.”

She nods.

“And you want me to help you fix him?”

“Abed, no.” She cups his cheek. “Why would you think that?”

He turns his cheek away from her—he's pretty sure this isn't what Shirley was talking about. “Because you always wanted to fix me.”

She lets her hand fall to the table. “I did. When you were very little, I did. But now I just want you to be happy. And I want your brother to be happy. I think spending time with you would be good for him. For both of you.”

“Then why haven't we met before?”

“I... I thought— _Michael and I_ thought being around you might make him...”

“Like me... But now that he is like me, there's no danger.”

“Yes. I'm sorry. I was wrong to think that way. I was just so scared and paranoid about the baby's health because I was so old when I had him and I—”

Abed holds up a hand. “I understand.”

“You do?”

“ _Glee_ did that story line a couple seasons ago.”

“Oh, I don't watch that show.”

“Honestly, you're better off that way.”

She smiles slightly before standing. “I ought to go. Michael will be expecting me home.”

“He doesn't know you're here.”

She shakes her head. “Michael... he is a lot like your father. He's very protective of his son.”

Abed nods, but doesn't completely understand. “Is he good to you?” This seems like the question to ask.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He plucks the sunglasses from her face, checking to make sure.

“Abed!” Her face is clear and unbruised. “Be careful with those. They're prescription.”

He hands back the glasses. “Sorry. I just wanted to see your face.”

“Oh.” She cups his cheek. “You've grown into such a sweet boy.” She bends over a little, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I'll call you about meeting with Donny.”

“Okay.”

She smiles. “Cool.”

“Cool, cool, cool,” he finishes.


End file.
